Flame On
by Lord Valerius
Summary: Steve Rogers had been as escape, his mind's way of escaping his less than ideal childhood and becoming strong enough that his father could never touch him or his sister again. Or at least, that's what his therapists said. But here Johnny was, waking up in Steve's body again years after becoming a superhero by his own right, both Johnny Storm and Steve Rogers merged into one.


He dreamt of ice and fire, but he woke to the breeze.

Blinking slowly as his eyes refocused, the annoying buzzing in his ears becoming the sound of a game on the radio, he stared up at the unfamiliar room in confusion.

Where was he?

The last thing he remembered was the Silver Surfer, the uncomfortable feeling of his body bursting with the powers of his team, the white – or rather, silver – flash of light. Then he'd been here, in what was apparently a 'Ye olde hospital roome', a cold ache throbbing in his bones.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Johnny Storm sat up slowly, looking around the room as his brows furrowed. He felt weird, more tired, the constant energy he'd been known for at high school gone without even a trace.

He felt heavier too, had he gained weight?

Looking down at himself, Johnny froze at the sight of an unfamiliar body, his pecs unnaturally defined in his shirt while his arms were _definitely_ closer to Ben's than Johnny's. That explained why he felt more powerful then, he'd literally become some kind of super hunk.

Picking at his pants uncomfortably, the fabric disgusting and scratching (he was pretty sure he'd been dressed in tighty whities, gross), Johnny plucked out the front of his shirt curiously. His shirt, while white, had an oddly familiar symbol on it. A globe with an eagle surrounding it, three letters printed in the centre. It took an embarrassingly long time for his brain to finally translate the letters, flipping them and reversing them until they correctly read _'SSR'_.

It couldn't be… that… it seemed like a lifetime ago…

Glancing up as a breeze cut across the back of his neck again, Johnny turned to stare at the radio as cheers erupted from it. He remembered that game, not because he'd been there, but because _he_ had been there. Dreams of another life, of a superhero strong enough to save the world, ones he hadn't had since he'd become the Human Torch. There was no need for the dreams after that. When he'd been younger his therapists had claimed that they were his way of escaping, by being strong enough that his father could never hurt him again. The last dream he'd had, he – or rather 'Steve Rogers' – had crashed the plane into the ice to prevent it from killing everyone, and the very next day he'd been struck by space mojo and become a superhero in his own right.

Steve's arms kinda looked like the ones attached to what was probably Steve's body.

He'd been hurt, Johnny decided, and his brain had shut down into some kind of healing coma. This was his way of being strong again until he woke up and could really be strong again. He had no clue, this wasn't his area of expertise, he just smiled for the cameras and set shit on fire.

Listening to the game for a little longer, Johnny's head ached as the memories came flooding back in. He could remember the smell of corndogs in the air, the grin on Bucky's face when they got to the seats they'd saved for _years_ for, the oddly depressing rush he'd felt at realising that going to the game would likely be the most exciting thing he ever did with his life.

For a moment, Johnny – Steve – felt a burning ache in his chest reminiscent of his fire powers, as he remembered watching Bucky falling from the train. He could have lived without that memory, thanks, brain.

The door opened suddenly, and a nurse slipped into the room with a slow smile, her long skirt hugging her hips in a way that made the part of him that was still Johnny mentally leer. His eyes reaching her face, his interest in her vanished immediately, the look on the woman's face was bordering on patronising and she hadn't even opened her mouth yet.

"Good morning," she greeted calmly, smoothing down said skirt as if she'd noticed his eyes on it, "Or should I say, afternoon?"

"Where am I?" Johnny asked, feeling himself falling back into _Steve_ as if he'd never left. If he were still himself, Johnny would have made some kind of flirtatious comment that he only half meant, but Steve would never be so brass with another person.

"You're in a recovery room in New York City," the nurse explained as if her accent wasn't completely off for both the time period and the place. Did they mean they were somewhere else? Was it possible they were still in the real world, but that the Silver Surfer had somehow brought out the Steve part of him?

Focusing on his hearing as the woman waited patiently for him to answer, Steve turned his head towards the window, straining to hear past the game. Dead silence, like he'd almost expected.

"Where am I really?"

And did he miss Steve's deep voice or what? Johnny's hadn't broken until he was seventeen, and hadn't _that_ been awkward.

The nurse obviously hadn't been hired for her acting skills, as the first thing she did was panic, trying to cover it up with a smile. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"The game. It's from May 1941," Steve said bluntly, putting on his serious face, "I know because I was there."

Almost immediately the woman froze, the look on her face practically screaming 'Oh shit' as her lies came crashing down around her.

The small part of him that was still Johnny couldn't help but stand slowly, feeling old muscles uncoiling like a cat's as he unfolded himself to Steve's full height. This was another thing that he'd missed. No matter how much he exercised, Johnny could never build up muscle, he only got definition. And while that definition made him a hit with the ladies, it didn't allow him to actually throw a proper hit – or punch, that sounded cooler in his head. After just being Steve again for a minute or two, Johnny already felt tempted to break a few doors or walls just because he could.

"I'm going to ask you again," Steve continued, the woman shrinking back a little before him. Normally, Steve would have backed off himself, having spent most of his life hating guys who used their size like this. But right now, he felt it was his only choice that didn't involve actually having to touch her. " _Where am I?_ "

"Captain Rogers."

"Who are you!" Johnny interrupted, enjoying watching her jump.

It was the soldiers that came in through the door that settled things for both Johnny and Steve, the sight of modern weapons and body armour switching things over from _'Potential Threat'_ to _'Threat'_. And hey, he might not get to break a few walls with his fists, but he certainly enjoyed throwing the soldiers through the movie set-like walls more than he should have. If he had access to his Human Torch powers, a gout of flame at the opposite wall would have finished the moment perfectly.

Jumping through the broken wall as the nurse pulled a taser from a holster beneath her shirt, Steve took in the room before running again, his boots a little too tight and stiff.

They were definitely in some kind of modern setting, but they definitely weren't in his one. The black-clad agents littering the halls all glancing his way before looking away dismissively, giving him the chance to take in their weapons and clothes before they all stopped and turned to face him as one, the nurse's voice echoing through the overhead speakers.

"GET HIM!"

Were they joking? Human Torch or Captain America, either way, they were no match for him.

Turning and running in the direction there were fewer agents, Steve lowered his shoulder to tackle an agent who dared step in front of him, unashamedly using his speed and durability to launch himself off a mezzanine floor to the ground three stories lower with only a twinge in his ankle to show for it. Ignoring the startled screams around him, he was off again, bursting out the front doors and almost getting hit by a taxi as he powered forward onto the street accidentally.

Well, they were in New York alright, he doubted Hydra would recreate a set of Times' Square and fill it with 'tourists' just in case he broke out of their hospital set. That didn't mean it wasn't the Silver Surfer or Doom, though.

Black military cars coming skidding around a corner, Steve automatically began counting the soldiers that came pouring out of them. Too many to fight, but not too many to run away from. What he wouldn't give to be able to fly right now.

"At ease, soldiers!"

Oh look, a pirate.

Watching the soldiers slowly lowering their weapons, men in suits appearing now to try to push back the crowd who were watching curiously, Steve eyed the approaching man cautiously. He'd never had a thing against black people before – as either Steve or Johnny – but for the first time ever he was actually feeling like he needed to hold his non-existent wallet closer as this man stopped in front of him. Maybe it was Johnny's hobby of rebelling against authority figures to pass the time, or just his innate distrust of people in trench coats, either way, something was telling him this man was trouble.

And not the fun kind, either.

"Look, I'm sorry about that little show back there, but…" the man paused, "We thought it best to break it to you slowly."

Steve didn't like him either now, they both hated being lied to and manipulated. And that seemed to be what this guy did best.

"Break what?" he asked, mostly because he had to be asking something.

"You've been asleep Cap, for almost seventy years," the pirate said casually as if he'd been reading off a box of cereal.

What a twat. If there was a protocol for talking to a guy who'd apparently been asleep, frozen in ice for nearly seven decades, then that was clearly not it. And sure, he'd broken out of the set they'd planning on using against him, so maybe protocol plan A was ruined, but _still_. Most people would break down, some might even last until they were in private to cry. And if he'd been only Steve, then he might have been devastated and confused, but he wasn't… and so he wasn't.

He just snorted. "Nice try."

The pirate just blinked, the movement behind him drawing Steve's eyes to the tranq rifles being passed around in the background. Almost immediately heat began burning in his chest again, the Johnny part of his brain lighting up like the Fourth of July at the familiar sensation.

"Look around, Captain," the pirate exclaimed, gesturing to the bustling city around them, "Does this look like New York in the forties?"

Making a show of looking around, letting a little more Johnny come out, he noted a couple of movie posters flashing past on the electronic billboards. "2012," he declared bluntly, making the pirate still for half a second, "This is definitely 2012, I saw that movie when it came out. Hot date, not as hot as me of course, she left halfway through. Not my fault the movie was more interesting than her."

Smiling at the pirate as the rifles around them starting raising, Steve snapped off a polite "Sir," and saluted, before turning and sprinting towards one of the cars. The soldiers there just panicked, fumbling with their rifles even as Steve felt several impacts in his sides and back. He wouldn't have long before he was dead in the water, so he instead chose to jump onto the hood of the car and scale it, twisting about as he threw himself in the air.

" _Flame on_."

One good thing about being both Captain America and the Human Torch shoved inside a singular body, was that both of them boasted a more than reasonable resistance to drugs. Steve Rogers' metabolism was too strong, and Johnny Storm's body just burnt the drugs out of him. In the case of both of them being the same person, and the sluggishness that had been pumping through his veins was burned away by the molten magma taking its place.

Fire propelling him into the air and out of range of the soldier's rifles, he shot off without caring about the direction, not wanting to give the men below the chance to pull out any more guns with a longer range than they already had. He needed to find his sister and annoying brother-in-law. Together they and the Big Guy could take on these 'agents' and their pirate leader.

To Baxter Building it was then.

Reorienting himself, Johnny flew across the city and felt himself slowing down at the sight of an entirely different tower standing where his home should be. The name _'Stark'_ blazoned across the front of it tugged at Steve's heartstrings, conjuring up memories of exploding labs, twirling moustaches, and cheeky grins. And it was with great hesitation that he came to a stop in the air, staring at the building like it itself was viable to explode as Howard Stark shouted for everyone to take cover.

It was strange, being both Johnny and Steve. It wasn't like he had two personalities, or an alter ego. Sometimes he was just more Johnny and sometimes he was more Steve. Although in all honesty this 'merge' hadn't happened until he'd been woken up by the ball game, back in the day his dreams had just been Steve. He had the personality and memories of both, all mixed into one, like a blender but less messy and edible. But right now, Johnny felt only heartbreak at the loss of what was the only family he had left, and Steve felt the exactly the same with the knowledge that his old team were likely dead by now, the two united by one of the worst feelings either had ever felt.

" _Hey, Glowbug!"_

Blinking as he turned, flames still crackling around him, Steve's head tilted slightly in confusion at the sight of the bright red robot hovering around twenty feet from him in the air. It was unlike anything Steve had ever seen, but then so was the flying car Howard had shown off at the convention he and Bucky had gone to all those years ago. If it was really 2012 right now, why wouldn't flying metal suits be an option?

" _You mind?"_ a voice echoed from the robot as it drifted a little flower, Johnny immediately floating backwards. _"You're kind of ruining the view."_

It was some kind of superhero showdown like from the movies, the way they were slowly rotating around each other, just waiting for the other to attack first. The Iron Giant and the Human Torch… the Iron Giant and Captain America… Human America? Captain Torch? That last one sounded better, but still completely and utterly ridiculous.

And then the light shining from the Iron Giant's feet shut off and the robot fell from the sky with a yelp, its feet turning back on even as Johnny dived after him. It was with awkward stuttering and wobbling that the Iron Giant finally touched down on a landing pad near the _STARK_ sign, Johnny hovering around uncertainly, neither aspect of himself willing to let it fall and die.

"JARVIS make a note! Keep the old wiring system!" came the cry as the robotic suit was removed by equally robotic limbs, revealing a face that made Steve's chest ache. "Hey! You wanna come in? I got a fire extinguisher or two if you need one."

Huffing in amusement, Steve's caution warring with Johnny's brashness, he merely hovered a little closer and cringed away from the small robot-thing that showed up holding a fire extinguisher.

"Hey! Girl on Fire? You coming?"

* * *

 **FLAME ON**

* * *

 _ **Just a small idea I had but never got around to writing, based off the fact that both Steve Rogers and Johnny Storm are played by the incredibly dashing Chris Evans (Even if only one of the film series wasn't cringe-worthy). What happens next is up to your imaginations, like my sister for one who likes to imagine Steve and Tony making out, which we all know would NEVER happen, because obviously Steve loves only Bucky.**_


End file.
